The Sixth Life of Medusa

48. Her Favourite

The girl moved with quick, silent steps, leading Perseus down an unfamiliar path that cut through the forest bordering Cronus' Hovel. Today, unlike the raggedy tunic she preferred, she wore a pristine toga that stretched over the hump on her stooped spine. Her hair didn't seem as oily, and there was that determined glint in her eyes when she sought him out that afternoon.

"Follow me. I must tell you something."

Perseus had readily obliged.

She had been elusive for weeks, almost as if she sensed he had marked her for death. Now and then, she'd appear with gifts of wine, cheese, bread, honeycomb, even uniforms far finer than the threadbare mess he'd been handed on his first day in Cronus' Hovel. But any time he asked to meet at a place of his choosing, she answered with a shy shake of the head.

When he asked where they were headed, 'a secret place' was all she said. Well, the secret place was taking more time than he had bargained, and his patience was beginning to stretch thin.

Finally, they made it through the forest and came upon an abandoned village overtaken by weeds and thorn bushes. The previous occupants seemed to have fled in haste, judging from the scattered remains of shattered vases, rusted weapons, and sandals. Lots of sandals eroded by the elements. There was something off about the air, too. That energy he sensed, thanks to the dark goddess, hung low and abundant, but unlike aether, it was difficult to gather.

Perseus folded his hands across his chest as he continued trailing the girl. Save for the sound of rustling leaves and their footsteps, nothing stirred. No birds. No insects. No croak of frogs despite the marshes they had passed on their way here.

The girl continued down the cobblestone path that cut through the village square. Not a word or a backwards glance as she pressed on.

Perhaps, he should be worried. She may be luring him to a trap after all, yet his heartbeat remained even. Whatever comes, he would face.

The past weeks had been full of unexpected harvests thanks to the heirloom the girl returned. As his understanding of theos tongue slowly grew, alien ideas began sprouting and forming threads of plausibility. And the more familiar he grew with the goddess' dark energy, the more those ideas evolved.

There remained a big problem, though. Being seen. He must find a means to shield himself from the eyes of every deity, especially the dark one that had fused herself to him like some... some tumour with a mouth. Her claws were in too deep, and her true intent with him was unclear.

The only secret thing he possessed was his mind. Since the dark goddess inferred a lot from his emotions, placing his feelings under a tight leash helped, but there was also the inconvenience of her odd foresight. Or was it foresight? He wasn't so sure. She'd shown him that horrifying vision of an older version of himself getting burned in a basin of fire. Did that mean she possessed foresight? Was she even a god? She had claimed other deities were thieves and could be killed; maybe the same rule applied to her.

"We're here," the girl said as she stopped before a sagging shrine.

Beneath the shrine's crumbling roof stood a weather-beaten statue of a woman with spread arms and a crescent balanced on her head. It looked well-kept, as if someone had taken the time to frequently sweep away dead leaves and trim back the creeping vegetation.

After offering the statue a deep bow, she faced him. "I brought you here because they hear nothing in this space."

Would you look at that? An amused smile curved Perseus' lips. Did she wish to paint herself as some unwilling victim of the goddess? Was this some test? Perhaps a ruse to probe the essence of his character?